A/N: This story is a continuation of the Joanne chapter in Are You Still Mad. Aside from the MoJo chapters there, it's my first ever MoJo, so concrit or even just plain ol' encouragement would be great! It's not essential to read Are You Still Mad first, but it would deifnitely give you some background... /shamelessplug
Disclaimer: If I owned RENT, I'd be playing Mimi, not writing MoJo. Enjoy! :D
...
Maureen looked at the floor, then back up at Joanne. The lawyer's eyes were filled with unspoken apology, and brimming with unshed tears. Normally this would have been enough to make Maureen kiss her until they were both gasping for breath, but today something was stopping her.
Joanne had come back to her. It was possibly the first time this had happened. Maureen had the power, this time, and she was very tempted to use it. More than that, though, seeing Joanne begging for forgiveness made Maureen realise just how many times she'd been in her girlfriend's shoes. She hated being the weak one; it wasn't something she'd ever really had to experience before. With Mark it had certainly never been a problem.
Maureen was a drama queen. She'd been famous in high school for it, and it was now a given among all her friends. Joanne was used to it, and even though she would never admit it, Maureen had a sneaking suspicion that the lawyer didn't hate her antics nearly as much as she made out. And Maureen was used to people making allowances for her, never taking her problems quite seriously enough, which was handy once she calmed down and realised just how overblown her theatrics were. She knew that Joanne expected her to come crawling back every time they fought, and she knew, in the back of her mind, that even as she was making a scene out of the slightest thing that she expected herself to come crawling back too.
But this time Joanne had made the scene, Joanne had made the first move. It had put Maureen on the back foot, and she was hurt and confused. She expected Joanne to be a nice, good, stable girlfriend and support her through everything, not to have sudden mood swings and actually put her work first. She knew it was unreasonable, but after years of dating pushovers, Maureen's habit of needing to be first priority was hard to shake.
So she didn't wrap her arms around Joanne's neck and kiss her. She leaned on the doorframe and folded her arms, staring at the hollow of Joanne's collarbone rather than looking into her face.
"God, Joanne," she muttered. "I… I meant what I said about needing space, okay?"
She turned away, expecting Joanne to leave. Instead, the lawyer reached out and touched Maureen's bare arm, making the diva jump. "Honeybear, listen to me, please."
"I need…" Maureen paused. "I need time to think."
Joanne bit her lip. "Okay."
Maureen looked into Joanne's face. The pain she saw there almost made her reconsider her decision, but for once she stood her ground on a non-political issue and looked away. "I'll call, Pookie."
Joanne's eyes filled with hope as she heard the pet name, and she smiled softly. "Okay."
She walked out of the loft without another word, and Maureen flopped on the couch, the brief exchange having worn her down more than she expected. She let out a loud sigh, and threw a hand over her eyes to block out the light. She heard Mark's whistle from the kitchen as he cooked breakfast, and the smell of cooking bacon pervaded her nostrils.
"Damn," Maureen muttered. "When did Mark get rich?"
Rolling off the couch and onto her knees on the floor, Maureen yawned and tried to clear the memory of Joanne's glassy eyes from her thoughts before walking into the kitchen and leaning on the counter.
"Morning, Marky," she smiled, and Mark looked up, surprised, caught mid-whistle.
"Morning," he greeted her. "Did I hear Joanne in here before?"
Maureen looked at the countertop to avoid Mark's eyes. The surface was dirty, the gross kind of dirty that was usually only seen in advertisements for cleaning fluid. She wrinkled her nose, and wondered how Mimi could stand spending so much time in the loft. It was disgusting, the amount guys could mess up just by living.
"Hello?" Mark laughed, waving a hand in front of Maureen's face. "Where'd you go?"
"Sorry." Maureen shook her head. "What?"
"Joanne," Mark prompted, shaking the cooked bacon out of the frying pan onto a plate.
"Wasn't here," Maureen shrugged. "You must have heard the neighbours, or something."
She thanked fate that she had decided to become an actress, if only so she could hide the workings of her love life from Mark at this particular moment. She felt a little guilty – Mark was almost too trusting, too easy to fool – but waved the feeling away. She'd never felt bad about lying to him while they were dating; why start now?